Married to My Country
by MidnightVampire18
Summary: This story is about Elizabeth Tudor, the Virgin Queen of England, and her love affair with her country, told through the eyes of England himself from Elizabeth's birth, coronation and death. Multi chapter drabbles. ElizabethxEngland
1. Chapter 1

A/N I don't own Hetalia nor do I make any profit from it

Chapter 1 - The Birth of my English Rose

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**England's POV**

I remember the day she was born. 7th September 1533… Anne Boleyn, Henry's second wife, had given birth to a beautiful baby girl. Henry was not pleased though and at the time, I was somewhat disappointed myself. Frustratingly, he wanted a son and that had caused his divorce with the Spanish princess, Catherine of Aragon. This caused sour relations with Spain and much of Roman Catholic Europe. It felt like we had gone to all this trouble for nothing. I remember Henry's words when he left the exhausted queen, "If you can bare a healthy daughter, you can bare a healthy son."

Anne had named her baby daughter Elizabeth after both of her grandmothers, Lady Elizabeth Boleyn, who was from the powerful Howard family, and Elizabeth of York. She had her father's coppery red hair and her mother's dark and alluring eyes. I remember lingering in Anne's chamber, watching her cradle the little princess in her arms with sad eyes.

"Are you disappointed too, my dear England," Anne asked, not taking her eyes off her daughter.

"Disappointed isn't a word that comes to mind," I replied, "There is no use crying over split milk."

Anne nodded silently, "I promised both you and Henry a son… I have failed in my duty."

I watched her sadly. Much turmoil would befall this woman. Miscarriage after miscarriage, Anne lost her children. The last child to have miscarried was said to be a son. My heart went out to my dear queen as Henry began to hate her for this. In his eyes, Anne had caused these miscarriages. Eventually, the morning of 19th May 1536, Anne was sent to the scaffold. I had visited her just before her execution. Surprisingly, she was rather calm in the face of death. She placed her hands to her neck, "I heard say the executioner was very good and I have a little neck," she said with a giggle. The executioner was a French swordsman. I bet France was pleased with himself… the little wanker, "Look after my dear daughter, England," Anne said as she walked towards the door, allowing herself to be led to her death.

I followed Anne to the scaffold and watched as she stood before her former subjects, _"Good Christian people, I am come hither to die, for according to the law I am judged to die, and therefore I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak anything of that, whereof I am accused and condemned to die, but I pray God save the king and send him long reign over you, for a gentler nor a more merciful prince was there never: and to me he was ever a good, a gentle and sovereign lord. And if any person meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best. And thus I take my leave of the world and of you all, and I heartily desire that you pray for me. O Lord have mercy on me, to God I commend my soul."_

My heart ached as she said her final speech. Not once did she criticize Henry. She was a noble woman indeed. As Anne knelt before the executioner, I noticed that the executioner seemed troubled. Anne, was waiting to die turned her head to look up at her executioner. However, he shouted to his assistant, "Where's my sword?" Anne turned away quickly before her head was sliced from her shoulders. A canon went off as her head fell to the ground, signifying her death.

A drop of blood had splashed onto my face and tears had streamed down my cheeks. My thoughts turned to Princess Elizabeth. Her mother was now dead and I heard that Henry had begun to court a new lady by the name of Jane Seymour. I found myself hating Henry for that. Jane Seymour paled in comparison to Queen Anne. She was too sweet, meek and mild. But that didn't stop her from baring a son, my future king.

I visited the young princess. She was admittedly beautiful in her youth. Her shoulder length red hair was graced by gentle waves and her dark eyes shone with childlike curiosity.

"Iggy," Elizabeth shouted in her childlike voice. As she ran towards me, her arms out in front of her, I knelt before her and smiled sadly.

"Hello, my little Lizzy," I said kindly, "Have you been good for Lady Bryant*?"

"I have," she said with a quick nod. My heart ached for her. How was I ever going to tell her about her mother? She was to be declared a bastard like her half sister Mary and her title of princess was to be taken away from her. She was to be known as "Lady Elizabeth". Prince Edward, son of now dead Jane Seymour, was now the undisputed heir to the throne.

Elizabeth had to endure many more year of turmoil and three more stepmothers, Anne of Cleves who was a German princess; Katherine Howard, a relative of Elizabeth's; and Catherine Parr, a learned woman who treated Elizabeth and her half siblings with kindness and respect.

This would be the last time she would feel this kind of stability and warmth, especially when her siblings took the throne. I watched from a distance, for that was all I could do. I heartily prayed that one day, my sweet Lady Elizabeth would take the throne one day.

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**A/N Hello! This is my first Hetalia fanfiction. The idea came to me whilst I was watching the movies "Elizabeth" and the sequel "Elizabeth: The Golden Age". I admired how devoted she was to her country and that she was essentially married to her country too. I was also watching Hetalia Axis Powers and there's a clip of England fighting the Spanish Armada (the bit where France goes around slapping defeated countries i.e. Spain across the head and "profiting from the sidelines")**

**So this is going to be a multi drabble chapter story and I hope you enjoy it. **

**P.S. Lady Bryant* was Elizabeth's first "Lady Mistress", who looked after her during the first couple of her life. **


	2. Chapter 2

A/N I don't own Vampire K nor do I make any profit from it

Chapter 2 – January 22nd 1547 – The Promise

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"My dearest England," the fourteen year old Princess Elizabeth said softly, "My father is very sick."

"I know," I replied, "Your younger brother will take the throne if he dies."

"He is a Protestant… like me," Elizabeth said, "My precious country will remain that way for a little while longer. But poor little Ed… he doesn't seem ready to take the throne and it seems that he will be sickly during his reign."

"It seems that way," I said.

"If he dies… my sister will take the throne… and then the country will return to being Roman Catholic. What should I do if that happens?"

"I don't want you to risk your life," I said.

"My sister is ruthless and passionate about the Roman Catholic faith," Elizabeth said, "It makes me unhappy."

"Well, at least… you will be able to live in some respite from such turbulence until that time comes," I replied. Elizabeth sighed sadly and didn't answer.

"I spoke to my step mother this morning," Elizabeth said absentmindedly after a while of silence, "She says that my father will not last long and when he dies, that I should live with her."

"It sounds like a sensible proposition," I replied, "She seems to love you as if you were her own child."

Elizabeth fiddled with the pearls around her neck. I stared at her for a long time as she fidgeted uncontrollably, "She has been close to death too… she is too outspoken yet she can talk her way out of anything."

"She is a clever woman," I said.

"Indeed," Elizabeth said distantly, "I am beginning to think marriage is not for me. I have seen how marriages fail first hand and three of my father's have ended with death, including that of my mother's. Granted, Jane Seymour died but wasn't executed."

I walked towards the young princess and touched her shoulder, "One day, we will be together…"

"It is an impossible dream," Elizabeth said as she turned to me with her dark and intelligent eyes, "I do love you so… but you are not mine… you are my father's and soon to be Edward's…"

"I am always yours, my princess," I said as I placed her hand over my heart and then brought her snow white hand to my lips. A dark blush spread across her features and my green eyes sparkled with mischief, "As long as you remain an English woman, I am always yours."

"Which will be until the day I die," Elizabeth said with a girlish giggle.

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**A/N Well, this chapter is reference to the scene in Axis Powers where England gets drunk and questions his Christian denomination ("Am I Catholic or Protestant? God! I don't know!"). Haha, that made me laugh so hard. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As I said, they're just going to be drabbles but some might be full length chapters. **

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	3. Chapter 3

A/N I don't own Hetalia nor do I make any profit from it

**A/N this chapter is a bit steamy but nothing about the T rating. **

Chapter 3 – 15th January 1559 – The First Night

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Elizabeth's servant brushed out her long, strawberry gold hair and she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

"You may leave," she said dismissively.

"Yes, my queen," the servant said with a curtsy.

"Before you leave, call in England," Elizabeth commanded. The servant nodded and walked out. England walked inside to see Elizabeth standing up from her dresser.

"You looked magnificent today, my queen," He said with a low bow. Elizabeth lightly fingered the ring she had received not five hours ago. It was the ring which told everyone she was the Queen of England, now a very powerful young woman.

"Yes, my coronation was a success," Elizabeth smiled as her light night gown's wide neckline slipped off one of her pale shoulders. England stared at her with a mixture of admiration and undisguised lust. He slowly approached the young queen and held her dark gaze, "I have waited for this for a long time."

She held up her hand and England's gaze fell on the ring, "We are married now, England, you belong to me now."

Elizabeth gently pushed him on to her bed and straddled his waist. England stared up at her, barely able to feel her slight weight. Her long and wavy hair hung around his face like a curtain, "Elizabeth, what are you doing?"

"Isn't obvious? We should consummate our union… we belong to each other now," Elizabeth whispered sensually in his ear, "I am a woman now… surely you see me as such."

"I do…" England replied hesitantly. He could feel her kissing his neck and her hands running along his sides until they came to his breeches. England breathed heavily and buried a hand in her soft hair. Elizabeth pulled back a little to gaze into his emerald eyes. England let the hand in her hair move to the back of her neck and pulled her into a deep kiss. Elizabeth gasped and her eyes widened before relaxing and letting England to roll his beloved queen onto her back, his larger frame dominating hers.

"England… no… Arthur…" Elizabeth gasped as his hands roamed over her slim body, "This has never felt more right. Tonight, I want us to become one. "We have had our wedding day now let us be together."

England's cheeks warmed as she referred to the name he only allowed his nearest and dearest to call him… his human name. One of his hands trailed her night gown up her legs to reveal long and shapely legs. Her skin was soft under his touch and drove him mad with lust.

"Are you sure you want this," he asked as Elizabeth shyly untied his breeches.

"I have never wanted anything more in my life, Arthur," Elizabeth said as she leaned up to press a kiss to his lips and pulled his shirt from over his head. England nodded, pulling her night gown from over her head to reveal a beautiful and slender body. He pressed himself against her, never before feeling such desire.

"You are mine, Elizabeth, no other shall have you," England replied as kissed her again.

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	4. Chapter 4

A/N I don't own Hetalia nor do I make any profit from it

Chapter 4 – 15th January 1559 (continued in England's POV) - Mine

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This girl – no – young woman was _mine_.

She was _my_ queen

_My_ woman

_Mine_

She was _mine_ from the very beginning… from the day she was born. I knew that she would make me proud and she has prove me right.

Now, she had defied all odds through Mary's reign and was now _my_ queen. Just before Elizabeth's coronation, Spain saw how beautiful _my _queen she was now and Kind Philip wanted to marry her. I, of course, wouldn't let her accept him. She is _mine_.

Now, as her small form writhes underneath _me_ and she has become _mine_. She moans my human name in my ear, calling for _me_ and _nobody else_. I run my hands over her silken skin and perfect body. I run a hand through her auburn hair and grasping it within my fingers. Her hands rake down my back, her finely manicured nails digging into my skin. Her hands travel all over my upper body and through my blond hair, grasping at it painfully as I make her cry out. My lips silence her screams, swallowing them soundly.

Nobody would take her away from me.

I will fight for her at every turn.

"That was beautiful, Arthur," Elizabeth whispers as she turns to me, "I love you… and I am glad you are mine."

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	5. Chapter 5

A/N I don't own Hetalia nor do I make any profit from it

Chapter 5 – April 1548

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**England's POV**

"I am enjoying life with my step mother," Elizabeth said with cute smile, "How are the affairs of state and working with Edward?"

"He's a boring little sod," I replied, sitting on the soft lawn, "He's much too serious for an eleven year old. Nice... but boring..."

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she looked around furiously before bringing herself to sit next to me, the satin of her red dress pooling around her.

"Hush! England, you shouldn't say such things," Elizabeth said furiously. I chuckled lightly, "Don't you dare laugh! You don't know who is listening. People are always ready to point the finger and accuse you of treason."

"You forget, my dearest Elizabeth, I am a country," I replied cheekily, "I can't be accused of treason."

"That's true," Elizabeth said and her straight posture slackened and she sighed deeply, placing a hand on her stomach, "My step mother is with child, England, but… for some reason or another… I am not happy."

"Why are you unhappy," I asked. She looked up at me before looking around to see if anyone was around. When she was satisfied that nobody was there, she leaned in and whispered, "Lord Seymour has… improper intentions towards me."

I leaned back to look at her and I blinked, "Improper relations," I asked incredulously and she nodded, "What is he doing?"

"He touches me inappropriately and wakes me up in the morning by tickling me… The other day, he ripped my dress to shreds. I don't know what was going through his mind… but ever it is… it isn't honourable."

"Have you not told Catherine about this," I asked, unable to hide my shock and she shook her head quickly, her wavy red falling over her shoulders and hiding her face, "Why not?"

"Because I don't want her to be upset," Elizabeth exclaimed, "She is with child and I don't want her to be hurt by her husband's actions. She loves him dearly."

"But he cannot treat you like this! Your honour is at stake," I said, grasping her shoulders and shaking her slightly. She shook her head.

"I am a Tudor and I am my father's daughter… I can handle anything if I put my mind to it," Elizabeth said. By her tone, it seemed that like she was trying to convince herself rather than me. I raised my hand and rested it on her soft cheek. She looked up at me, her dark eyes holding my emerald gaze, "Arthur… why do I feel this way around you," She leaned forward and, feeling a pull which I couldn't resist, our noses touched. Elizabeth rested a hand on my cheek. However, before inevitable happened, a voice interrupted us.

"Elizabeth, it's time for your lessons," Catherine called. Elizabeth pulled away from me sharply and jumped to her feet, which wasn't easy considering her skirts.

"Coming, Step Mother," Elizabeth said as she ran in towards the manor house. I watched her until I could see her no more. I then lay back on the grass and stared up at the clear sky. It was clear that I was in love and I could no longer ignore it and nor could I ignore how much of a woman she had become. However, the matter of Thomas Seymour worried my greatly and I wasn't going to let him get away with it.

Incidentally, the following year, his head was on the chopping block.

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	6. Chapter 6

A/N I don't own Hetalia nor do I make any profit from it

Chapter 6 – October 1563 – Smallpox

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**England's POV**

"I am ugly," Elizabeth said with despair. She gazed her reflection and gazed at the scars she had been left with from her smallpox, "Surely God is punishing me…"

"It could have happened to anyone," I said, "And you're not ugly."

"Do not flatter me," she cried, "You and I both know that it is true. It's there before our very eyes!"

"You could have died," I said calmly, "Does that not matter to you?"

"I would rather be dead than have a face like this," Elizabeth screamed at him, "What will my people think? God only knows what you think! Everyone will lose respect for me! I am only thirty years old and yet I look like a hag. I should have died!"

"You look nothing like a hag," I replied, "You are still beautiful."

Elizabeth buried her face in her hands and sobbed loudly, "Why did it have to be me? Is God punishing me? Have I displeased Him?"

"God would do this to the queen he chose to rule this country," I replied, "You are my anointed queen and have been chosen by God. He wouldn't do this to you."

"No? Well… if that's the case. It is the devil's work then…" Elizabeth sighed dejectedly. I bent down so that my green eyes made eye contact with her dark brown eyes. She sniffed, "What? Don't stare at me!"

I took her slender hands in mine and pulled her to her feet, "You are beautiful," I said as I wrapped an arm around her slender waist and kissed her cheek, "You are my Elizabeth. If I say you are beautiful, then you damn well are."

Elizabeth turned her face from me and then something within me snapped. I pulled her into a deep kiss but I could feel her struggling and trying to push me away. But I wouldn't let her have her way… not this time. My lips remained on hers and Elizabeth eventually stopped struggling. I eventually broke the kiss and gazed down at her.

"You are always beautiful to me, Elizabeth, never forget that," I said.

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	7. Chapter 7

A/N I don't own Hetalia nor do I make any profit from it

Chapter 7 – 5th February 1587

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**England's POV**

"You must sign it," Sir Francis Walsingham said as placed a large sheet of paper on the table in front of Elizabeth. Elizabeth sat there, tight lipped and defiant.

"No," she said, "I will not sign it… I will not condemn an anointed queen to death."

"My queen," Sir Francis said, clearly tired and frustrated, "Mary Queen of Scots has been tried and found guilty of treason. She makes no effort to deny it."

"Elizabeth," I said, "Please, think of your throne… your people… do you really want this country to be under papist rule?"

"Of course not," Elizabeth snapped, "But I fear divine retribution if I sign that death warrant."

She grabbed the warrant and scrunched it up into a ball and threw it at Sir Francis, "Leave me be, old man! Go home to your wife and child," she shouted. Sir Francis bent down and straightened out the piece of paper, placing it back on the table. Elizabeth flounced to her throne and dropped down wearily into it. Sir Francis cast a weary glance at me and I gave him a sympathetic look in response.

As he walked towards the door, he whispered, "England, she listens to you. You are her one true love after all. Please make her see sense… for all our sakes."

With that said, he walked out. Elizabeth ordered out her councilmen and as they trailed from the room, I walked towards her and knelt before her throne, "Please, my dearest Bess, you are in the gravest danger. If you execute Mary, you will crush any attempts to overthrow you. You know how popular she is with English Catholics."

"Don't you think I know that," Elizabeth snapped, "I am fully aware of the peril I am in but to kill an anointed queen would be a sin. Please do not make me make this decision now."

"But it isn't just you in danger, Elizabeth; it's your kingdom and your citizens. She has already proved that she isn't on your side by siding the conspirators…So much for queenly solidarity. But then again, you have had her locked up in many different castles around the country for the past twenty years…"

I was cut off by a fierce glare.

"I am well aware of that," Elizabeth said, "But I had no intention of killing her."

She stood up from her throne and gracefully walked over to the long table where the death warrant lay. Her hand hovered over the quill and ink pot for a few moments before retracting her hand. I approached her and slid the ink pot and quill towards her, "Do it for your people and me if not for yourself. She is a dangerous woman. Surely you see that?"

Elizabeth stared hard at the quill and her hand hovered over it again before snatching the quill out of its put and quickly signing her name. My breath hitched in my throat as I watched her. I had never seen this woman so conflicted and now she had made the ultimate decision.

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	8. Chapter 8

A/N I don't own Hetalia nor do I make any profit from it

Chapter 8 – January 1536

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**England's POV**

"Well, Catherine is dead and all is well," Anne exclaimed. Little Elizabeth was playing with one of her dollies into the corner of the room. I noticed how French style had become the norm during the reign of Anne Boleyn. The French hood adorned both mother and daughter's heads. They wore yellow, as was the colour mourning in Spain, mourning the death of Princess Catherine of Aragon.

Not that Anne was sad about anything.

"Elizabeth," Anne said holding her arms out and Elizabeth looked up at her mother, "Come here and embrace your mother."

"Yes, Mama," Elizabeth clambered to her feet and toddled over to her mother and into her waiting arms. Anne pulled back and looked at me.

"Do you think that Elizabeth will make a good queen, England?"

I gaze at the little princess for a moment before nodding succinctly, "If she is anything like her mother, she will do just fine."

"Her father too," Anne replied, "She is just as intelligent as him."

"She is as beautiful as her mother," I replied adoringly. Anne stood up and slapped my arm playfully.

"Flattery is the devil's tongue, England," Anne said with a small glare but I could tell that she was not serious by the playful look in her dark eyes. I smiled and nodded.

"Indeed, please forgive me for my perceived sin," I replied, "But I am not flattering you. I only speak the truth."

"Then you are mad," Anne said distractedly, "And kind too."

Elizabeth toddled over to me and smiled sweetly. I caressed her pale cheeks lovingly, "Anyway, the absolute point is, Catherine is dead! No more Spain! As nice as that fellow is, he has become rather hostile towards me because of my marriage to Henry."

"He will get used to it, Dearest Anne," I reply.

"He has no choice," Anne said strongly, "Our affairs of state are not Spain's problems or business. Elizabeth will be queen and not her bastard sister, Mary. Ha, she is even one of Elizabeth's ladies in waiting… how humiliating."

I was sad for Mary. It wasn't fair for her to lose a mother but Elizabeth would be queen as her mother said and I would see to it that this was fulfilled.

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